In Need of Repair
by Cleo the Muse
Summary: Sam can't fix everything, but Daniel won't let her stop trying. Gen, Sam/Daniel friendship


**In Need of Repair**  
Teens  
Genre: Gen, Angst, Friendship (Sam/Daniel)  
Warnings: Mild language  
Timeline: Season Seven  
Synopsis: Sam can't fix everything, but Daniel won't let her stop trying.  
Notes: Written for LJ 2009 Q4 one_prompt community challenge "Well? Can you fix it?"  
Status: Completed November 18, 2009

* * *

I'm sorry, Daniel. I'm so, horribly, terribly sorry... sorrier than words can ever say.

I can't fix this.

I hate it when you look at me like that. No woman in her right mind could ever refuse you, and I'm far from being the exception to the rule. One look from you and I'm throwing caution to the wind, abandoning the rigid discipline of my military and scientific training to explore like a curious child.

That's what got us into this mess.

No, I'm not blaming you, Daniel, it's what you do. You could no more stop exploring than the colonel could stop yelling at us for using big words or detailed explanations. It's who you are... it's one of the best things about you, and it's _our_ job to protect you.

Don't give me that look. You're much better at protecting yourself now, yes, but no matter how good you get on the firing range, your first instinct is going to be to talk, not shoot. I've watched you in hand-to-hand training, and I've heard the colonel yell at you for taking it too easy. Even after all this time, you still don't like hurting people.

Stay that way, you hear me? Don't change. Don't change a damn thing.

Dammit, it's been hours. I thought the colonel and Teal'c would've found us by now, or at least tried contacting us.

Unless something in here's blocking the radio signal... Or what if...?

No, not going to think of all the "what ifs". There's too many things that could've happened, and I won't be doing either of us any good by listing them. They're fine, they're trying to find a way to get us out of here, and they have a medical team on standby.

God, I hope they didn't trigger a booby trap like we did.

No, like _I_ did. You, it let past just fine because you scanned as human. Me? I registered as Goa'uld, thanks to Jolinar's leftover proteins. Apparently, the long-gone owner of this laboratory took a dim view on other Goa'uld trespassing in his playground, and decided a half-dozen pneumatically-thrown razors were just the thing to take out any intruder. And if that wasn't enough, the lab doors sealed up tight behind us.

I don't know how you saw them coming. I never heard a thing, but there you were, shoving me out of the way and taking four blades to your left shoulder and upper back. Four six-inch long metal spikes, each of them coated with an anticoagulant.

You're dying. Again.

And what am I doing? Well, after futilely attempting to stop the bleeding and unsuccessfully trying to reach the colonel, I'm tearing apart the room, trying to find some way to open the door. I found a panel next to the door that looked promising, but nothing I've tried so far has worked.

If the colonel was here, he'd be asking, "Well? Can you fix it?" but you? You lie there, looking perfectly confident in me.

How do you do that? You're always so sure about what you do. You're not always sure how people are going to react to you, but you always seem to know what you're capable of, and you approach everything as though nothing is impossible. You don't just think "outside the box", there's never a box to _begin_ with for you.

I have limits. I always have. I _need_ those limits, the same way I need my military discipline and my scientific training... it's who I am.

But just like you challenge me to just _explore_, you also challenge my rigid thinking. I'm a better person because of you, did you know that?

Why is it I always wait until you're dying before I say these things to you?

How's the pain? Do you need some more Tylenol? Morphine? Daniel, you don't have to play the tough guy with me. If you're hurting, just tell me.

That's what I thought. Tell you what: I'll take a break, if you take a few more pills. No, you don't need to... okay, I guess you're sitting up, then. Here, lean against me. C'mon. There you go.

Oh, very funny, wise guy... I don't let just anyone use me for a pillow, you know. Besides, there are a dozen women back on base who would _love _to have you between their legs.

Yes! I love that smile! I don't see it often enough, you know? No one does. You really should smile more.

Damn it. I'm not going to cry. I am calm, I am detached, I am...

Damn it.

Break's over, Sammy, get back to it. Just focus on the matter at hand. Concentrate on what you _can_ fix. You've hotwired dozens of Goa'uld panels before, why should this one be any different?

It _shouldn't_ be any different, but it is. Of all the Goa'uld in the galaxy, why'd _this_ one have to have an imagination?

Thinking like Sam's not cutting it. Think like Daniel. What would Daniel do first?

Huh. That crystal looks different. What would happen if I-

Ouch! Damn it. Son of a-yes! Oh, sweet merciful heavens, thank you!

Colonel, can you read me? No time to explain, sir, Daniel needs immediate medical attention.

Hang in there, Daniel; we're going to get you home. I don't know why you always have so much confidence in me, but it's high time I made sure I never doubt you again. That's one thing I _can_ fix.


End file.
